In Deep Water
by indecisive-ays
Summary: She looks so colourless. A continuation to FemaleSpock's "Tastes So Sweet". Rocket/Lun-Zia. Rocket/Tia.
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**Disclaimer: I do not own Galactik Football. And I am not making any money out of this fic.**

**A continuation to FemaleSpock's "Tastes So Sweet" even though, this cannot hold a candle to how awesomely written and characterized that one is.**

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**In Deep Water**

The sun warms his skin, drying whatever may be left from the water drops that had been sprawled over his chest after taking that dive in the sea late last night.

He opens an eye, allowing the light to blind him momentarily; the sand he is lying on is prickly but Lun-Zia curled up next to him is all smooth.

He sits up with a sigh, of content or regret, he isn't sure. All he knows is he needs to get back before people realize he was gone.

Before she realizes he has never been to their bed last night.

Lun-Zia stirs and sits next to him, turning her head to the sun:

"I never realized how bright mornings were here," she says.

He looks at her and she smiles, stealing a kiss from his inert lips:

"I'm going back," she stands up.

She doesn't need to tell him to take awhile before following her. He already has a plan; he'll tell her he went to take an early walk. Or that he slept outside, there were many people sleeping or partying on the beach anyway.

He could say he needed the fresh air. Which was no lie.

He looks at the sea. There was nothing wrong with adding an early swim into that mix.

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For the first time he appreciates the fact that the automatic doors make no sound; he doesn't want to wake her.

He is already headed for the bathroom to rid himself of the salty sea water when he realizes the bed is empty.

He realizes the bed has not been used the previous night the same moment he notices a pale leg is slowly dangling from the side of the bathtub.

She looks so colourless, especially now surrounded by the marble white of the tub and the bathroom. Or he wonders if it may be an unfair comparison on his part since he had spent the night with a Wambasian.

It doesn't matter. It doesn't change the fact that she is a beautiful creature, lying in his tub with not even one bubble in the clear water to hide her flawless physique from his eyes.

He leers slowly, leisurely.

Neither does anything change the fact that she is _his._

And he knows exactly where to start and what to do with what is his.

He throws his shirt, which he hadn't bothered putting back on his wet self, to the laundry bin and strides over to the tub, kneeling down beside it and taking her ankle in his hand.

She keeps gazing at the opposite wall, doesn't respond.

But he is not looking at her face either. He is massaging her calf, kissing her toes, licking her ankle, making his way upper; his lips following his hands, pampering her leg with his attention.

He is stern when he moves it to point skyward but he is gentle when his lips touch her inner thighs. His hand that is not holding her leg goes for her womanhood and it is then he realizes the water is stone cold.

He lifts his head in question. When trying to distract her from questioning him, he is not a fool to ask anything first, but lying in freezing water is something to be inquired on –even if they are on a tropical planet.

She doesn't respond, draws her leg back into the tub from his slackened hold and slides as to be engulfed by the water.

She emerges a few seconds later and grabs at the sides of the tub and raises herself; entrancing him as he watches drops slide all over her. One long leg comes out first, and then the other and she strides into the bedroom without as much as a glance back at him.

He knows something is wrong then.

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**Okay, so I was going to write a little bit more for this and I think I probably will in a few days... but this looks somewhat alright like this, too, so if I feel like I'm ruining the original fic's characterization I may leave it as it is... ugh, this all sounds like I'm teasing you on purpose, doesn't it? But I'm not; I just wrote until here and felt like it was a good place to stop -might have something to do with the fact that I can't open my eyes right now- and thought, hey, I can do it in two parts! We'll see what happens. **


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**Disclaimer: I do not Galactik Football. **

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He thinks of it as cowardice even as he acts upon it; but he cannot find the will to go into the bedroom after her. It is expected of any guy, him being no exception, to demand an explanation in the face of such a curt rejection. Most likely, there is some reason regarding her health or state of mind that he's supposed to care and he doesn't want to act right now.

Discovering something that may be his fault sounds even more unappealing.

So he decides to postpone being reasonable for a few more minutes and goes into the shower instead; allowing the warm water to wash away any evidence of what he had been up to last night, any last fragrance of another woman that may be lingering on his skin.

He'll never know what made her change her mind but a few minutes later the door to the stall slides open and there she is –still somewhat detached looking yet staring at him with a slight hint of desire in her passive eyes.

He blinks through the drops of water hanging on his eyelashes as she gets in and closes them together inside this rather packed space –much like how the two of them already confined each other in a small world of their own, one of the many signs that drove his attention to how dependent they had become.

How bound he was.

But that did not matter at this moment. Not when she squeezes herself between him and the wall, raising her head to the shower head; the warmth, no doubt, welcomed by her skin after that attempt to freeze herself to death.

He is watching her heaving breasts like a hawk when she seizes him a hard look and snakes her hands to his dreads, bringing his head down with a strength that surprises him, bruising his lips with her kiss.

They can talk about whatever's been bothering her later, he decides, this is a lot more urgent. He grabs her buttocks and raises her; pushing his full length into her folds and slamming her against the wall. He can't help feeling smug –she is wet and warm around him. All for him.

Her mouth falls open at the suddenness of it, but no sound emits from her. Not until he pulls back and fills her again, when she moans and throws her head back against the wall, her eyes once again fixed on the opposite wall.

He frowns. He is not to be trifled with.

Faint sound of skin slapping on skin fills the bathroom, and he is raking his hands all over her unabashedly, sucking and biting her breasts with a rave that surprises him. Since when is he so greedy?

Her legs are tightly wrapped around him, her hands holding onto his shoulders. But she still doesn't look at him and for whatever reason, he finds it frustrating. He grabs at her head and forces her gaze upon his, caught off guard at the fire within.

While her skin may be undistinguishable from the spotless marbles around her in its paleness, her eyes are burning into his soul, ablaze with tons of emotions he cannot describe.

It makes his stomach twist –it sends an electric bolt all through his body, incinerates a new vehemence to his desire.

His desire, which overwhelms him so that, even when she snaps her eyes shut as she tightens around him –stealing the pleasure of seeing them light with elation from him- he cannot find it within him to think anything of it.

He is soon to follow her. Spent, satisfied, he nuzzles her neck, holding her flush against him.

Still, water pours all over them.

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**Smartly titled 2nd Chapter... There'll be another really small part to follow this, I just felt leaving it here kind of felt right again... I'm sprouting gibberish. I'll stop. But the next part will be soon, still hoping haven't butchered FS's characterization. (boo you cheater Rocket!)**

**Editted the last part, because now it looks closer to what I meant to write.**


	3. 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Galactik Football.

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He is listening to her heart beat returning to normal, in sync with his. That steady thumping is his entire world at this moment; it deafens his ears even to the sound of his own breathing.

But there is no way he would miss what she says when she speaks; even if his mind is having a hard time processing it, his heart is already cold when he hears her hoarse, numb voice –so very different than that bundle of sensations that were swimming in her eyes mere minutes ago:

"I saw you."

He raises his head and looks into her eyes. They are as stony as the water she had been lying in when he arrived. She doesn't need to explain.

She pushes him gently and he lets her go, putting her back on her feet, all the while watching her eyes for a sign that there may be hope for them. There isn't.

She goes out and he turns the water cold; it's pouring disabling him from hearing her shuffle around the room and close the door behind her. He doesn't need to; he knows she's gone anyway.

Suddenly, that confined little world they have created together is a black hole, swallowing him as it collapses.

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**And FIN!**

**Hopefully, it was good. I didn't want to get too wordy with it. Constructive criticism? Still many many thanks to FemaleSpock who let me work with her story -which she had made possible within the cannon and then I went and made an alternative universe, so sorry on that account. It's been a nice little experiment, I may love writing angsting Rocket/Tia now :D**

**And just to get it off my chest: HA, Rocket! Who's your daddy now? ! She got hers and then ditched you, jerk! Woo go Tia! **

**Okay I'm done.**


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